w.a.s.t.e.
TOO MUCH DRUGS, PART 1
I went to San Francisco for work. Again. First I hung out with a bunch of surgeons and had dinner, and then I sat with the same surgeons while they argued about stuff. I attempted to take action-item-style notes on the arguing but sometimes it ended up looking like this: “Dr WeirdlyTinyHead suggested that readership survey create plug-and-play leadership skills appropriately utilize performance-based infrastructure arglebargle foofaraw watermelon canteloupe alkdjfsdfjsldfksjdfsa; alsdkfjwp.” There. Type that up on letterhead and I’ll see all y’all next year. Peace out.
The rest of the weekend was way better because I stayed with @baconmeteor and yeah it amuses me to refer to actual real people with Twitter handles so get over it. We watched World Cup games (verdict: soccer is still baffling), went hiking (normal people would call it an “outdoor walk,” but elevation is exciting to this Midwestern girl), and ate all manner of delicious things while yammering to each other pretty much nonstop. We think we are so goddamn interesting. (And we ARE.)
At one point I enjoyed a portion of a marijuana beverage, courtesy of someone with a generous heart and a dispensary card, and it was one of the more unusual highs I’ve had. Edibles (or, in this case, potables) are always more of a ton-of-bricks experience than is ordinary old-school smoking, but this was particularly special. When it was time for me to retreat to my sleeping quarters I had a weird urge to creep around and safety-proof everything. I unplugged a lamp I didn’t like the looks of (electrical fires!) I rolled a small rolling file cabinet in front of the door that opened to the outside (you know, so rapists and murderers would be…mildly inconvenienced). I took my chill-out-and-go-to-sleep pill very slowly and carefully, with lots of water, and tried to remember how to self-Heimlich (just in case). Eventually I got into bed and coaxed myself into slumber by imagining different things my skeleton could be made of and how that would feel. My skeleton is bamboo, so light and environmentally responsible. My skeleton is neon tubes, and the femur’s on the fritz. My skeleton is those yogurt tubes that kids like, squishy and nutritious.
HOMEMADE DRUGS
Speaking of edible marijuana treats, maybe that would be a good way to use up all this damn zucchini.
That’s one of many, people. We’re up all night to get squashy. From Wikipedia:
In a culinary context, zucchini is treated as a vegetable; it is usually cooked and presented as a savory dish or accompaniment. Botanically, however, zucchini is a fruit, being the swollen ovary of the zucchini flower.
There’s homemade chocolate-chip swollen-ovary bread in the break room, everyone! Actually a lot of the healthier things we eat are swollen ovaries. Eat food. Not too much. Mostly swollen ovaries.
TOO MUCH DRUGS, PART 2
Also, I went to a Michigan beach for a weekend. I am way too Mediterranean to acquire sunburn, but I did end up with a mysterious bumpy, itchy rash all over my arms and hands. Attractive! In an effort to quell the maddening itch and get some sleep, I took a total of four Benadryl that night, which is really a Sid Vicious-level dose if you ask me, and had an evening of dozing and drooling. I dreamed that I was a personal assistant to a fancy fashion-person in a dream version of Manhattan, and I had a chihuahua named Rakim or Akil (it was unclear).
(If you had a chihuahua named Rakim, would you also need to get one named Eric B? If you had a chihuahua named Akil, should you also adopt dogs named Chali 2na, Mark 7even, and Zaakir? Probably.)
NOT ENOUGH DRUGS
At the beach we saw a bachelorette party, whooping it up with go-cups of what was probably some terrifying sugar-free-Redbull-based “cocktail.” Out of the eight women in the group, only one did not have a bellybutton piercing. What made me saddest was the novelty inflatable beachball they were tossing around, which had an inflatable pink cock-and-balls trapped inside it. The inflatable wang threw off the balance so the ball had a weird trajectory, and the thought of one of those bridesmaids putting that thing in her basket at the card-and-party store depressed me beyond words.
JUST DRUGS, PLEASE, NO THERAPY
I saw my shrink at Whole Foods but did not speak to her. She was getting something out of the bulk bins. Lady, you are a medical doctor, is that a germ-free way to get brown rice? No it is not.
—mimi smartypants, $1.99 per pound.